Paradise
by Rhi
Summary: Jack Sparrow is seperated from the Black Pearl on a brief stint to Tortuga, and finds himself in a few familiar situations. He makes a few new friends, and a few new enemies. The Caribbean isn't the ideal vacation spot it was made out to be. -ON HIATUS-
1. Chapter the First: Boredom

**PARADISE**

**Chapter the First**: _Boredom_

Paradise. That was what some people called the Caribbean, with its wide, blue waters, clear skies, and overwhelming abundance of palm trees. In summer the days were hot, in winter the nights were cold. In autumn there was an annoying hail of coconuts and bananas, and in spring it was quite similar to summer except for a few new palm trees sprouting up here and there.

Paradise. The perfect holiday destination for bored British nobs. Unfortunately they all seemed to be staying at home, out of the heat, which was rather bad for people who made their living looting from British nobby ships.

One of these people was Captain Jack Sparrow. He clutched boredly at the helm of his ship, the Black Pearl, and stared despondently out at those wide, blue waters. He found himself wishing the skies weren't so clear this wonderful summer's day - at least a storm would liven things up a tad. 

Being dead had been more interesting than this.

Jack slumped against the helm, his face squashed between two spokes, and after a moment realized he was stuck. He spent five minutes manoeuvring his head about, trying to free himself. He managed it eventually and rubbed at his bearded chin, giving the helm a good kick. He swore and clutched at his foot.  
"This is NOT my day," he said after the pain had passed, and straightened, glancing around. Thankfully none of the crew had seen the Captain make a complete and utter arse of himself. Again. 

Jack summoned a random crewmember to take over the wheel, instructed him to keep the ship pointed in roughly the same direction, and stepped off the quarterdeck, wobbling jauntily across the ship towards the bow.

He listened to the idle chatter of the sparse crew that wandered about on-deck, and to the slap of the waves against the gunwale. It was a disconcertingly quiet day, with no ships nor islands on the horizon. They were in the middle of paradise - in the middle of nowhere.

The pirate Captain sighed to himself. Life was terribly dull when he wasn't in danger of being slaughtered in a very violent way (as opposed to being slaughtered in a non-violent way).

It had been almost six months since someone had tried to kill him. It was like he wasn't even *important* enough to be killed, now. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" he yelled suddenly, causing a few crewmembers to look around at him. "I *deserve* to be assaulted, assailed, attacked and put in mortal danger!"

"Can't disagree with that," said a tall, brown figure that Jack hadn't noticed before. He whirled, and glared unhappily at the only female on his crew, Anamaria. 

"Anamaria," he said.

"Yes?" The woman arched her eyebrows and tilted her hat.

"Do you have any rum?" Jack asked hopefully after a moment. 

"Afraid not. We're almost out, Captain." Anamaria stared out at the glittering waters. "Shouldn't we head to Tortuga or somewhere? We're running pretty low on everything, including rum."

"Rum, rum, rum," chanted Jack Sparrow. "Rum and apples and bananas. Aye," he added, "We'll go to Tortuga. Lots of people there want to kill me."  
Anamaria eyed the Captain specutavily. He always complained when people were attacking him, and yet now it seemed he wanted them to. His sun-bleached brain obviously wasn't working very well.

"Actually," Jack intoned thoughtfully, "Let's go to Port Royal. Drop in on a few...old...friends," He grinned at Anamaria, who looked at him in surprise.  
"Jack--CAPTAIN Sparrow," she began, indignant, "Last time I checked, Port Royal was crawling with navy ships!"

"Last time I checked," said Jack, "They couldn't find their arses with both hands and a lantern."  
"Last time *I* checked," said Anamaria, mocking his slurred accent, "We were all still *breathing*. I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep things that way."

"You're no fun," said Jack. "No sense of adventure."

Anamaria rolled her eyes, something she frequently did when dealing with Captain Jack Sparrow. "I'm sorry if I want to stay *alive*."

Jack gave her a Look that deserved the capital letter and turned away, humming to himself. He seemed to forget the entire conversation had taken place until Anamaria tapped him on the shoulder.  
"Well? Aren't you goin' to order the crew to turn the ship towards Tortuga?" she asked haughtily. The Captain widened his kohl-rimmed eyes at her for a moment before memory flickered in their murky brown depths.  
"What? Oh, yes. O'course. MEN!" he yelled, but the crew paid no attention. He frowned and climbed onto the starboard railing, gripping a loose line. "PIRATES!" Everyone stopped working and turned to him. He grinned triumphantly and swayed a bit before speaking.  
"We're goin' to Tortuga!"

There was a roar of approval. At last, they were going to do something interesting aside from sailing around on this cursed, deserted sea.  
"So...let us go! To Tortuga!" Jack continued. "At once!" He paused. "Avast!" he added, feeling as if he ought to add something pirate-y to his little 'speech'.

There was a chorus of affirmative statements. The ship began to turn in a slow circle as the man at the tiller swung it slowly to the side.

Jack hopped down from the rail after a moment, briefly getting tangled up in the rope he had been holding. Anamaria helped him down, smothering her laughter. He was the most incompetent Captain she had ever seen - except, of course, when he didn't want to be.

He straightened his official Captain's jacket and craned his neck, flapping his hands at her. "I don't need yer help, woman," he said, "I can take care of meself."  
Anamaria declined to comment. Jack gave her another of those Looks and sauntered off, shouting random orders that made no sense.  
Anamaria stared at the sea for a bit longer. After a moment, she turned to help adjust the running rigging that controlled one of the sails. She watched it unfurl slowly and grinned as the white fabric caught the wind, billowing like an angel's wing.

"Tortuga, here we come..."

The island loomed in the distance, a smoky, dark mass on the horizon. It didn't look very inviting, but that probably was why Jack was drawn to it. The place had an air of danger, of darkness and shadows and mystery lurking around every corner.

That and rum. Rum made the island even more appealing.

"Tortuga," Jack Sparrow announced, "has the best rum in the entire Caribbean."

"Aye," said the hairy, swarthy man standing beside him. He sipped from a hip-flask, and made a satisfied face.  
"Gibbs," said Jack thoughtfully after a moment. He ran his hands along the spokes of the helm in front of him. "Am I insane?"

"Eh?" the swarthy Gibbs asked, tucking the flask into his belt. "No, o'course not."  
The Captain turned slightly and gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. Gibbs cleared his throat. "Nothin' wrong with bein' a little barmy, Cap'n..." he said slowly.  
"Aha, so you DO think I am crazy?" Jack looked triumphant.  
"No!" Gibbs said. "Well, maybe a little! But you're a good Cap'n, and that's all that matters."

Jack took one hand off the helm and slapped Gibbs on the back. The bulkier man staggered forward a bit and quickly righted himself. "Good man," said Jack. "Honest man. Honesty is very important when you're a pirate. Honestly."

"Aye," said Gibbs gravely, declining to remind the Captain that pirates in general lied about almost everything. He walked off with the air of a man who has just avoided certain death.

Captain Sparrow twiddled the wheel thoughtfully. "Nothin' wrong with being a little barmy," he repeated thoughtfully to himself. "Hmm."

There was silence apart from the sounds of the sea and the crew bustling about. The sun hung low in the afternoon sky; casting a golden, shimmering glow on the flat, clear seas.

"Tor-tu-ga, Tor-tu-ga," Jack sang after a moment as the little spit of land came closer. "Tor-tu-ga my looove..."

Something hit him in the back of the head. He swore and rubbed the aching spot, half-turning to see the culprit. Anamaria stood behind him, holding a wooden jug. "You have a terrible singing voice," she informed him, and sipped from the jug.

"Rum?" he asked, ignoring her comment. Ana sighed and handed the jug over. Jack downed the burning liquid like a man dying of thirst would drink water. Anamaria watched him in faint disgust.

"Ah," he said as he finished, wiping his bearded mouth with a sleeve. "MUCH better."

"Couldn't you wait until we got ashore?" Anamaria asked as Jack tossed the empty jug over his shoulder, ignoring the ensuing yell of pain. "That was my last one!"

"I'll buy you a drink later," said Jack, waving an idle hand and almost hitting her in the face. She stepped back. "TorTUga," he sang loudly. "Tortuuuuga my looooove--OW!"

Anamaria put her shoe back on and walked off, ignoring Jack's glare.

"Women," he muttered to himself and twiddled the tiller a bit. 

"Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em..." 


	2. Chapter the Second: Tortuga, My Love

**Chapter the Second**_: Tortuga, My Love_****

Tortuga hadn't changed a bit since Jack Sparrow had last been there. It still swarmed with pirates - or 'privateers', as some of them preferred - and people of disreputable character. It was a haven for the wolves of the sea.

He strolled among the wolves, just another one of the pack. Occasionally his swaggering walk would bring him bumping into someone, but a dangerous grin and a threatening hand on the pommel of his sword dissuaded any complaints.

Eventually he came to his favourite tavern. It had no sign above the door, and several drunken sailors staggered out, singing off-key. Jack grimaced and sidled past them into the dingy humidity of the tavern. 

People paid little attention to him, which irked Jack a bit. He was rearing for a fight, or action of any kind, really. Speaking of action, Jack spotted a familiar, rogued-up face, and walked towards it, grinning.

No sooner had he stopped three feet away and opened his mouth did he receive a slap. "Ow," he remarked, giving the woman a hurt look. "Jezebel, I thought we were past all this," he said in a wounded voice.  
Jezebel turned in a whirl of perfume and strolled off without an answer. Jack rubbed his face.

"Pity," he commented, and shouldered his way through the press of bodies to the bar. "Barkeep!" he shouted, and the burly man turned around. "Get us a mug o' your finest rum, eh?"  
"And what will ye pay wit' THIS time, Jack Sparrow?" said the tender in a thick Irish accent. "More o' those broken promises ye seem to have in abundance?"

"Now, now, Fergus," said Jack placatingly, reaching into his coat. "A pirate always pays his debts, sooner or later." He dropped a couple of gold coins on the grimy counter with a clink. Fergus the bartender looked at them a moment before scooping them up and tucking them away.

"A mug o' rum 'tis, Cap'n Sparrow," he said in a much more amiable voice. Jack smiled. 

Said mug was deposited in front of him after a moment and he took a long, savouring sip, smacking his lips in appreciation. "Aye, that's the stuff," he hummed happily, and as an afterthought, flicked another coin at Fergus the bartender. Fergus took it without comment and moved off to serve someone else.

Jack hummed and glanced around the tavern. He recognized a few faces; most of them looked homicidal as he met their eyes. He gave an apologetic look to some, when he remembered what it was he was supposed to look sorry for. Those he didn't recognize that still stared at him he grinned at.

One such man didn't seem to like Jack grinning at him. He stood slowly and lumbered over. He was so fat that his stomach parted the crowd in front of him. Jack could smell some unholy stench coming off the man in waves, but was immune to it - he'd smelt worse.

"You gots a lotta nerve, comin' in here, Jack Sparrow," slurred the man, obviously drunk out of his mind.

"Eh? How's that?" asked Jack, polishing off the last dregs of rum in his mug. He slammed it on the bar with a decisive BANG and stood. He barely came up to the huge man's chest.

It was hard trying to intimidate a man almost as wide as he was tall.

"Ye tellin' me ye don't remember me?" asked the man, and burped loudly. _Punctuation_, thought Jack.

"Hmm..." He put a sarcastic finger on his chin. "Let me think." He looked the man up and down. "Nope, narh, can't say I do."  
"That's too bad," the man said, and without further ado, grabbed Jack by the neck and lifted him off his feet.

He choked and struggled, clawing at the man's hands, but to no avail. His legs flailed beneath him like dying fish. To his unsurprise, no-one was paying any attention to them - fights like this went on all the time in pirate taverns. 

Jack gave up trying to pry the man's hands away from his neck and, blue-faced, reached down. With a swift movement he had drawn his pistol, pressed it against the man's head, and cocked it. Very slowly, the man lowered Jack to his feet and let go of his neck.

The pirate Captain wheezed, rubbing his abused jugular with one hand and keeping a firm grip on his pistol with the other. When he finally felt he could breathe properly again, he spoke.

"Mate, I don't know who you are," he coughed a bit to clear his squeezed throat, "Or what I've done to you. And believe me, even if I did, don't think for a second I'd apologize for it, because quite frankly you prob'ly deserved it." The man growled and flexed his arm muscles, but with a grin Jack waved his pistol, confidence restored. "Now, if I were you I'd run along and hope next time we meet - if there is, indeed, a next time, which I hope for your sake there isn't -" He paused and frowned. "What was I saying?"

The man stared at him.  
"Oh yes. You'd better hope that if we meet again, which we probably won't, you won't make the foolish mistake of trying to attack me again. Because, mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy? And Captain Jack Sparrow--"  
Faster than lightening, the man drew a sword Jack didn't even notice he had, and knocked his pistol out of his hand. He barely had time to fumble his own cutlass out of its sheath and block a lethal swipe to the stomach.

Clash, clang, went the swords as the two men crossed blades. Grunt, groan, went the bigger man as he tried to dance away from Jack's lightening-quick advances. The man may have had a size advantage, but Jack was small (in comparison, anyway) and nimble, and could easily duck the man's clumsy swings.

With one fell swoop, Captain Jack Sparrow brought his blade swinging up and to the side, and the huge brute's sword went flying out of his hand. There was a scream from the crowd.

Jack retrieved his pistol, pointing sword and gun at the man's head. "I suggest you run along now, mate. Savvy?"

The man backed away slowly, and was soon swallowed by the crowd. Jack sighed and slumped, sheathing his sword and shoving his gun away in his belt. He sat slowly and signalled to Fergus.

"Better have another rum, mate," he said tiredly, "And forget the mug. Just bring me a bottle."

Jack grinned to himself as he uncorked and sipped from the bottle. He felt more alive than he had in ages. Although he *was* quite tired out, which irritated him a bit. He was terribly out of shape.

"Gettin' a bit soft in yer old age, Jack, me mate," he said to himself.

He finished the bottle and tossed a coin - silver this time - at Fergus before ploughing through the mass of bodies again. Once on the street, he took a breath of fresh Tortuga air and gagged a little. Tortuga air was never fresh. More like farted in, bottled up and then released after ten thousand years.

He strolled listlessly about a bit before a loud BOOM, cutting over the sound of yelling and general cavorting, echoed in the street. He turned slowly towards where the sound had come from - the docks.

Then there was screaming, and a mass of bodies running past him. Jack had to fight to keep his footing. He caught an elderly woman by the arm. "What's going on?" he asked. The woman looked terrified, but not of him - she kept glancing fearfully over her shoulder.  
"The Spaniards!" she said thickly. "They're here to reclaim Tortuga!" The wrinkled lady pried herself free of Jack's grasp and ran off, surprisingly quick for a woman of her age.

"The Spanish," muttered Jack, wincing as another BOOM echoed in the distance. "Almost as bad as the British. Or the French. Except...Spanish. Hm."

He ducked in and out of alleyways, weaving his way through the city until he came to the docks. People were still screaming and rushing around, but most had fled with the first attack. Jack saw a ship looming in the distance - bearing the Spanish flag.

Well, no surprise there, judging from what that old woman had said. Jack ducked as another cannonball came tearing past his head. He glanced at the hole in the building behind him and frowned. "I'm not paying for that," he said, and rushed towards the docks.

One of the piers had been destroyed by cannon fire and lay in splinters, half-in, half-out of the water. Jack danced past it, frantically searching for his rowboat. He had tied it up at the docks upon his arrival, and now it was...  
Gone. Smashed to pieces by an errant cannonball. Jack swore. How was he supposed to get back to the Black Pearl without a boat?  
The Black Pearl. Jack was thankful he'd had it hidden in a cove halfway round the island. No doubt the Spanish ship would have destroyed it before attacking Tortuga.

He fell flat to the dusty floor as another cannonball whistled past and shattered a window. Jack crawled on his elbows towards the edge of the docks, where he spied a rowboat, beached in the dirty sand.

He stood and ran the last few paces towards it and spent ten minutes shoving the rickety contraption into the water. The Spanish ship was looming closer, now, and Jack could see three small, dark shapes moving away from it. Boats. They were sending soldiers ashore.  
"Good thing I won't be here when they arrive, then," Jack said, wading waist-deep into the water before hopping into the boat. He fed the oars into the rowlocks and pulled. The boat cut smoothly through the choppy waters. There was a hole in the bottom, and Jack stuck his boot over the top of it. 

The wind and the water was, instead of taking him away from the Spanish ship, taking him *towards it*. He rowed frantically, and the boat turned in a slow arc, always spinning back towards the Spaniards. Jack let out a lengthy string of curses as the huge military ship drew closer, and closer, and closer...

And then there was the crack of muskets firing as he drew into sight of the enemy boats.


	3. Chapter the Third: Aboard the El Pizza

**Chapter the Third**: _Aboard the El Pizza_

Captain Jack Sparrow lounged miserably in the dark, dingy cell. The only light came from a crack in the bulkhead, and even that was barely enough to illuminate the small space.

"Bloody Spaniards," he muttered and kicked the bulkhead. Gently, though - the wooden boards looked like they would give in at any moment.  
The blasted soldiers hadn't even given him a chance to explain once their boat caught up with his. They'd just babbled in Spanish and knocked him out after they found out he didn't speak the language. Now, he found himself in this cell that would probably get minus one piratical points for captive accommodations on Jack's personal scale.

He rubbed his aching head and frowned. They'd taken his hat, along with his compass, cutlass, and gun. He felt strangely naked without all of his effects. Especially his hat. Jack's hat was a part of him, as much as his arm or leg.

Jack slumped against the wall and tapped his fingers against the rotting bulkhead. "You Spaniards don't take very good care of your ships, do you?" he said, addressing the guard sitting on a stool outside the cell. The dark-haired man glared at him, and Jack shrugged. "Just saying..."

He glanced warily from side to side and stood, pressing his face between two bars. "Mate," he said to the Spaniard, "What would you say to..." he did a quick mental arithmetic, "Ten gold coins, if you let me out of here?"

The guard stared at him blankly. Jack sighed and reached inside his coat, grinning as the guard stiffened. He brought out a handful of gold coins instead of some hidden secret weapon, and the guard blinked, staring.

"All I ask is you go to sleep for a few hours, savvy?" Jack whispered. 

The man spat at him and said a few choice words that, although in Spanish, Jack caught the meaning of. He scowled and tucked the gold away. "Have it your way, mate," he said.

After awhile he grew bored and started to pace about. Unfortunately, it was only two steps between the bulkheads. 

One, two, turn. One, two, turn. One, two, turn.

He did this until the guard swore at him. Jack stuck his tongue out after the guard had turned his back, and leaned against the bulkhead. 

He made to tilt his had over his eyes, but his hat was gone. He swore under his breath and glared at the guard. "Can I have my hat, at least?" he asked, but the man ignored him. "Fine. Have it your way."

Jack fell asleep eventually, or dozed. He wasn't sure which. When he woke up from his 'nap', it was dark. He pressed his face to the hole in the bulkhead and could see nothing.

There was a cough behind him. Jack whirled to see a man, dressed in a very uncomfortable-looking Spanish uniform, looking at him. He held an oil lamp that threw into sharp relief his pockmarked, severe face.

"You are a pirate?" the man asked in flawless, but heavily-accented English. Jack was surprised for a moment but found his voice and usual cocky swagger within seconds.

"Aye, that's me. Pirate all the way. Very piratey, me."

"My men tell me that they found you, in a boat, sailing towards us," the man continued flatly. "They say you shot at them with your pistol."

"Aye, I did, but they shot at me first!" Jack protested. "Self-defence, it was." He stared a moment at the man, who raised his eyebrows. "Hang on a minute, *your* men? Who exactly are you, mate?"

"I am Captain Jose Ortiz, and you are on my ship, El Español Se Levantó," Captain Ortiz said.

"El Espan...right, that's a bit of a mouthful," said Jack. "Well, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow and my ship, the Black Pearl, will be coming after YOUR ship, the El Pizza or whatever it is, if you don't let me go. Savvy?"

Captain Ortiz stared at him steadily. "The Black Pearl?" he asked, after a moment.  
"Aye, the Black Pearl," said Jack gravely. "Now, what say you to my...proposal? You're running out of time, mate. I'll eat me hat if the Pearl isn't right behind us at this very moment."

"There's no need to resort to threats, Mr. Sparrow," said Captain Ortiz. "I regret to inform you that your ship is nowhere in sight."

Jack swore under his breath. "What ever happened to guidelines, eh? Just guidelines," he muttered, and then turned a dazzling golden smile on Ortiz. "Well, Captain Ortiz," he said, as politely as he could manage. "It seems we're in a bit o' a pickle, here."  
"No, Mr. Sparrow, *you* are in the pickle," said Captain Ortiz. "I don't know how your country deals with pirates, but mine kills them."

"Pirates? Who mentioned pirates?" Jack frowned and looked around. "I don't see any pirates."

Captain Ortiz gave him a cool look. "Our attempt to retake Tortuga has failed," he said, "But it seems we will not return home empty handed." He turned and walked up the rickety steps, pausing to speak softly to the guard before disappearing out of sight.

Jack kicked the wall and clutched at his toe, eliciting a stern glance from the guard. He muttered a curse and flumped back against the wall like a limp rag doll, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of here.

"Well, you ARE Captain Jack Sparrow," he told himself, but that didn't seem to help. He had no brilliant flash of inspiration, nor a sudden deus ex machina like a decent lockpick. 

He stuck his fingers into the split in the bulkhead and wondered if he could make the hole big enough, and then quickly decided against it. He would drown before he had a chance to scramble out and escape.

Jack turned and eyed the guard, who was looking at him steadily in the light of the oil lamp. "Don't suppose you might reconsider that bribe?" he said, hopefully.

The guard ignored him. Jack slid onto the damp floor and stretched his legs out in front of him, his foot hitting one of the iron bars of his cell. The bar shifted forwards a few inches. Jack glanced at the guard to see he was watching the wall boredly and grinned.

He crawled forward and tested the bar. It came loose and the only thing preventing it from falling noisily to the deck was Jack's grip on it. He stood slowly and carefully leaned the bar against the wall, silently slipping through the gap.

The guard didn't see Jack creep up behind him, or have time to cry out as he was grabbed by the neck and slammed into the wall. The portly Spanish man slid to the deck, unconscious. Jack pinched his uniform as an afterthought.

It didn't occur to him that he looked rather odd with a Spanish uniform-coat on over his pirate garb. 

He found his effects tucked away in a locker near where the guard had been stationed. He put on his hat and strapped on his sword and compass, shoving his gun into his belt. He skipped stealthily up the stairs and pushed the hatch open, emerging onto the moonlit deck. He hid quickly behind a pile of rope, barrels and other shippy things he couldn't recognize in the dim light as Captain Ortiz and who presumably was his Lieutenant walked by, talking Spanish in low voices.

He stood when they were out of sight and peered out over the starboard rail. They were sailing past a small, tropical-looking island. Jack couldn't see any cities or towns, and without a map and the bearings on where he was, he couldn't tell if it was populated or not.

The Pearl will come looking for me, Jack reassured himself. They'll find me. I'll make a signal or something.

Jack took off his hat and flattened it, shoving it securely into his belt. He clambered up onto the rail and just as he was about to jump, heard someone shout behind him.

He didn't waste time. As guns began to fire at him, he fell, rather clumsily, off the rail. He hit the surface on his back, the salty water rushing into his ear and blocking out the crack of bullets.

He dived deeper into the water and swam until his lungs burned and he felt that he was far enough from the boat to resurface. Jack Sparrow dragged air greedily into his lungs as he broke the water, and looked around with stinging eyes.

The shore was close, and as he turned in the water, he saw no pursuing rowboat. He grinned to himself, imagining Ortiz's face. 

"You'll always remember this as the day," he shouted at the retreating ship, "That you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"


	4. Chapter the Fourth: Stranded

**Chapter the Fourth**_: Stranded_

Jack spent the night lying on the shore, watching the stars. The sand was refreshingly cool against his back, and a soft Caribbean breeze caressed his face. It was so ... peaceful. It was just the worry that he was going to die that spoiled the whole thing.

He drifted off to sleep and when he woke, it was blisteringly hot. He climbed painfully to his feet, his stomach growling in empty protest, and shoved his hat on his head. "Well," he said, surveying the long, hot stretch of beach, and then the jungle that extended out in front of him, "It looks like I'm stuck here for awhile."  
He turned to look out at the sea, as if the Black Pearl would appear, proving his grave words wrong. "If I don't see a sail on that horizon in the next few days, I'll..." he threatened, and ran out of steam. "Die," he finished miserably, after a moment.

"Unless I can find coconuts or something."

Being stranded on an island wasn't anything new to Captain Jack Sparrow. He'd been in the same situation twice before, except the island he had been stranded on had been a good deal smaller.

He sang idly to himself as he paraded up and down the beach, trying to decide what to do. He spotted what looked like a coconut tree but without the coconuts. He learned that trying to climb this faux-coconut tree resulted in a very sore behind as he fell, rather ungracefully, onto it.

Jack lay in the sweltering sand for a few moments, cursing the Spaniards, the Black Pearl, the world, and everything else he could think of. This grew boring after a few moments, and he got up, sweaty. He contemplated eating his hat.

Jack wondered what he had done to deserve this. Granted, he had terrorized, looted, plundered and pillaged pretty much all of the Caribbean and the waters surrounding it, but surely that didn't warrant all this unnecessary discomfort on his part? 

"Hmm...maybe it's kaftan," Captain Sparrow said to himself. "Bad kaftan. Or...carpet. Aye, bad carpet. Got meself a bit of bad carpet."

He strolled down the beach, or more accurately staggered - it was almost psychically impossible for Captain Jack Sparrow to walk in a straight line. He zigzagged up and down the sun-bleached sand, aimlessly navigating the island's perimeter. When the sun hung directly overhead in the sky and the rumbling in his belly grew too strong to ignore, he ventured into the moist, sticky jungle.

It was dark and humid amongst the assortment of tropical trees and foliage. Jack looked around hopefully for a coconut tree or, if he was lucky, a banana tree. He was pretty sure bananas came on trees, anyway. He wasn't entirely sure - someone had told him once that they grew out of the ground, like potatoes...

Did potatoes even grow out of the ground? Jack frowned at this train of thought and dismissed it. He poked around in the furry ground with his boot for any bananas, finding only a small snake that hissed at him and slid up a tree.

He stepped on something that went "squish" in a very organic way and kept on walking, not wanting to see what it was. 

Jack sang to himself for a while, but the sound fell flat and wet on the moist surroundings, so he stopped. He trudged along, occasionally stopping to search his surroundings for something edible. He found a bush with berries on it and tried one, but it tasted awful. 

Eventually he gave up and decided to head back to the beach. The only problem was, he didn't know where the beach *was*. He turned in a semi-circle and pulled out his compass, but it wasn't much help as he wasn't on land.

Jack decided to choose the most reliable method of navigating: Guessing.

He chose a random direction and trampled off noisily, upsetting a few jungle-dwelling organisms in the process.

Half an hour of trundling through the jungle followed, and Jack stopped, deciding this direction wasn't the right one. "I...am lost," he exclaimed aloud. "Me, Captain Jack Sparrow...lost. It's..." He shook his head, lost for words. Or perhaps just generally lost. Or both. "Lost," he repeated.

He growled and slumped against what he thought was a tree but turned out to be a huge brown snake. He let out a very feminine squeak as the snake spat at him and disappeared into the treetops. "Stupid...snakes," he muttered. "Maybe I should catch one and eat it." He paused to consider this. Snakes were supposed to be poisonous, but maybe that was just the fangs...

Two hours later, Jack had caught himself a snake and found his way back to the beach. He had set up a little camp - makeshift lean-to consisting of sticks and the rather large Spanish uniform-coat he had stolen and his jacket tied together, and a small fire some ways from it. Currently, he was roasting a bit of snake on a stick over the fire.

Once the meat had been sufficiently blackened, Jack tasted it tenderly. To his surprise, it was quite good - but that might have just been because he hadn't eaten in what felt like ages. He cooked the rest of the snake and wolfed it down, and then sat back, marvelling at the fact he had just eaten a snake.

It wasn't really that much of an ordeal, considering he had consumed snails, frog's legs, caviar and even cockroaches and chocolate-coated locusts before. 

But that was usually on some stint to a foreign country. *This* was the Caribbean. He was supposed to be drinking rum and eating apples, not lying on a sweltering beach eating charred snake.

"Yo ho, yo ho, it's a pirate's life for me," muttered Captain Sparrow bitterly. He threw sand on the fire to put it out and crawled under the lean-to, sighing at the relief of shade against his face. It was still uncomfortably hot, but he didn't fancy venturing back into that humid jungle again.

Time passed, and it grew cooler as the sun coasted the horizon, dipping towards the east. Jack fell into an uneasy period of dozing and waking, unsure most of the time of where he was. He would wake, for a few moments wondering where exactly he was, and then remembering and drifting back off to sleep. This cycle repeated perhaps a dozen times, before the day turned into uneasy night and the moon came out. Jack slid out from under the lean-to and stood, stretching his arms. He rekindled the fire and sat near it as the temperature dropped and dropped, and soon he untied his jacket from the lean-to and put it on.

He wondered how long he had been here. A day, wasn't it? A night and a day. It already felt like forever. Jack was getting bored - surviving was so terribly dull. If only he had some *rum*. Or maybe some decent company.

Jack smirked, thinking of a time when he had been stranded on an island with both. But that had been short-lived. He hoped *he* wouldn't be short-lived...

He wondered if he ought to go fetch himself another snake, but the jungle was too dark and Jack could bet that more unsavoury creatures aside from snakes would lurk there at night. Instead, he waded into the sea and busied himself with catching fish with his sword.

It took an hour or two and several stabbings of his feet but he finally managed to spear himself a fish. It was small, but enough to keep him going for a night. He cooked it over the fire and ate it thoughtfully, staring out at the sea. Why hadn't the Black Pearl come for him yet? Or maybe they had, and they'd sailed past the island, not seeing him.

Jack cringed at the thought. He pondered making a signal but decided he felt too lazy to race up and down the coast trying to find some decent driftwood, and he could hedge a bet there wasn't any wood that was flammable in the jungle.

So, for now he was stuck here. On this deserted island. With nothing but him, the snakes, the fish, the beach and the blasted jungle to keep him company.

Brilliant.

Captain Jack Sparrow sighed to himself as he flopped uselessly on the sand like a beached whale. He stared up at the moon, shining crescent and silver in the middle of the star-studded sky. The fire was warm near his feet. It was good, really, to get away from the rigours of being a pirate for a while...what wasn't good was dying in the process.

He closed his kohl-lined eyes and tilted his hat over his head, blocking out the weak moonlight. There wasn't much to do now but sleep...sleep and survive.

Jack sang softly to himself. His voice sounded parched and dry, like a piece of paper that had been crumpled up. He knew he ought to find some fresh water soon; he couldn't live on fish and snakes forever. The idea of venturing again into that accursed jungle wasn't too appealing, however.

He heard a soft sound from behind him, like running footsteps in the sand. He stopped singing to listen, but no other sound came. Jack pulled his hat off and sat up slowly, squinting in the dim circle of firelight.

A tall brown figure stood there, just outside the ring of light thrown by the campfire. At first Jack thought it was Anamaria, but as he looked closer, he saw the woman - for it was a woman - wore something akin to a rough-woven tunic, and was holding a spear...  
A spear that was pointed at *him* in a very threatening way.


	5. Chapter the Fifth: Wild Things

**Chapter the Fifth**: _Wild Things_

For once in his life, Captain Jack Sparrow was speechless.

He'd been in situations more dangerous than this, but it was more the shock of finding out another human being lived on this godforsaken spit of land that left him a bit surprised.

The woman stepped forward, the rough-hewn spearhead now brushing against Jack's neck. He swallowed heavily and held up his hands. "Now, love, you don't really be wanting to do that," he said, in a quiet, soothing voice he might use to calm a screaming toddler.

She cocked her head like a bird, listening closely to his words. Jack sighed heavily. "Just my luck, you don't speak the Queen's English," he muttered, and then stood slowly. The woman jolted forward, pressing the spear hard against the soft flesh of his jugular.

Jack gulped again, but carefully. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, keeping his hands in the air even though his arms were beginning to hurt. "I know I might look a bit dangerous, but I'm harmless, really..."  
The woman looked at the ground. Jack had dropped his hat when he stood, and she was staring at it curiously like it was some sort of extremely unusual-looking animal. She kept the spear pointed at him and bent slowly, picking up the brown leather hat.

"Thank'ee very much, love," Jack said, holding out his hand expectantly. She ignored him; examining his hat and inching forward a bit, causing Jack to step back, spear against his throat.

Now she had moved into the light of the campfire, Jack could see her clearly. She was tall, almost as tall as him, and the tunic she wore came down to her knees. On her feet she wore sandals made out of some kind of rope and leather, though where she had gotten the leather on this island was a bit of a mystery to Jack. Her dark eyes surveyed his hat thoroughly, and then him and his odd-looking garb. She opened her mouth and gestured with the spear after a long moment.  
"You are a pirate."

He was so shocked that she could speak English that he didn't reply for a moment. "Aye," he croaked eventually. "You speak English?"

"Yes," said the woman. She had a thick Jamaican accent. "My name Urenna. I from village in jungle."

"In the jungle?" repeated Jack, doubtfully. "People LIVE in there?"

"In village," repeated Urenna. "Deep in jungle, so bad men not find us." She hefted her spear threateningly. "Are you bad man?"

"Sometimes," said Jack, smirking, but the smirk quickly turned into a grimace as Urenna pressed the spear so hard into his flesh a drop of blood fell down his neck. "No! No, I'm not."

"You lie?" Urenna said. It was half a question, half a statement.  
"No. I'm not a 'bad man'. Honestly, love." Jack cautiously stepped back, and slowly rubbed the blood away from his neck. 

He tried to subtly reach for his sword, not trusting this Jamaican woman, but she thrust the spear into his face and he stopped. "All right, all right," he said, flapping his hands upwards. "I surrender." He thought for a moment. "This may sound horribly clichéd, but...how's about you take me to your leader, and we can sort this out, eh?"

Urenna was still holding Jack's hat. She looked at it and then at him. "Pirates bad men," she stated.

"Some of us, love. Not all of us," said Jack desperately. He wanted to get out of this without too many holes in his flesh. "Some of us are good men...like me," he poked himself in the chest. "Me *good* pirate. Savvy?"

"Savvy?" asked Urenna, obviously confused. Understanding dawned on her dark face after a moment. "Au! You name Savvy," she said.

"Actually, me name's Jack Sparrow - Captain Jack Sparrow, but you can call me Jack," said Jack.

"Jack Savvy," said Urenna happily. "I take you to Chief Ohini."

"Good then," said Jack. "Now can I have my hat back?"

Urenna led Jack through the jungle, pushing him in front of her and guiding him with her spear. He felt a little bit nervous, which wasn't surprising as he had a crazy Jamaican woman with a spear leading him into the dark, wet jungle.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Jack asked nervously, bumping into a tree. Urenna prodded him with the spear and he muttered to himself, navigating around the offending tree, his boots sinking a few inches into the mossy undergrowth as he walked.

"I find way out of jungle, I find way in," she said. "I live here my whole life, Jack Savvy. I know way."

"Fair enough," said Jack, "But I don't." He swore angrily as he banged into another tree and clutched his bruised face.

What enraged him the most was not being shoved around like so much spare baggage, more that she still had his hat. And she was wearing it.

It didn't suit her.  
It took half an hour for Urenna to lead him through the jungle. She seemed to be following some kind of hidden path, for occasionally she would stop, examine a tree or a rock or a bush, and then change course.   Jack had no idea where exactly in the jungle they were, as Urenna never let him stop long enough to get his bearings. 

After what seemed like forever, Urenna hit him with her spear and told him to stop. She let out a series of high, bird-like whistles, and listened quietly to the ensuing silence.

"What are we stopping for?" asked Jack, but she jabbed him with the spear again. He shut his mouth and listened along with her, trying not to breathe too loudly lest she abuse him with the spear once more.

All he could hear was the sound of the jungle. Urenna whistled again, almost deafening him with the almost impossibly high pitch. After a moment there came a matching whistle from ahead and above, and then ten Jamaican warriors dropped from the trees.

They surrounded Urenna and Jack, spears identical to Urenna's pointed at them - or, more specifically, pointed at Jack. He held up his hands slowly.

"Parlay?" he asked.

Urenna's village was situated in a clearing deep in the jungle. A series of huts made out of bamboo, palm leaves and other unidentifiable tropical foliage surrounded a huge bonfire. Warriors, women and children sat around it, talking, dancing, laughing and eating. 

Jack looked up as he was led, bound and stripped of his effects, into the clearing. He could see the stars again. 

The people gathered around the fire looked up at their entrance. The women hastily took their children inside their various huts, and the men stood, gathering up their weapons. Jack saw a musket or two among the primitive spears and knives.  
"Where'd they get the guns?" Jack asked Urenna, who was walking beside him. She was still wearing his hat.  
"Men come here, trade with us sometime," she said. "Good men. Not pirates." She gave him a look and Jack shrugged guiltily. He couldn't help it if he was a pirate, could he?

"So, where's this Chief Kahuna of yours?" he asked as Urenna spoke to the warriors surrounding him and they dispersed. He felt a little less nervous, but Urenna still had her spear poked at him. Jack, as a general rule, didn't really like pointy things when they were in his face.

"Chief Ohini," said Urenna flatly. "He in Chief's Hut. This way." She grabbed him and led him to the biggest hut in the village. Jack felt the men's hostile eyes on him, and noticed a few much friendlier eyes on Urenna as well.

Makes sense, he thought. She's a very...voluptuous woman.

The inside of the hut was dim and lit by candles. It contained only a rough mat and a throne of sorts, made out of what looked like some kind of dark, varnished bamboo. A man sat in the throne, eating what looked to be some sort of stew.

The man looked up at their entrance. He wore the standard warrior's loincloth, but over that he also wore a robe of richly woven, coloured fabric, and a necklace of what looked like bone. He was clearly the chief.

His eyes fell on Urenna first. "Urenna!" he exclaimed, and spoke quickly in a language Jack recognized as Jamaican but couldn't understand.

Urenna replied in the same language. Jack caught his own name mentioned a few names - well, Urenna's version of it, anyway: "Jack Savvy". 

Eventually she fell silent and the Chief - Ohini, wasn't it? - surveyed Jack quietly. He opened his mouth and the words that came out were not Jamaican, but a slow, calculated English. He seemed to stew over each word for a few seconds before saying it.  
"My daughter say you are pirate," he said, his rumbling voice like a growl of thunder.  
"Daughter?" Jack blinked and looked at Urenna, but her expression revealed nothing. He spoke his next words slowly and carefully. "Aye, I am a pirate." He felt he ought to say something else, so he added, "Sir."

"She also say you good man, you not try to hurt her," said Chief Ohini. 

"Wish I could say the same for her in respect to me," muttered Jack, rubbing his neck. He smiled quickly and added a little bow at the Chief's expression.

The big dark man seemed to be considering something. He leaned back in his throne and put down the bowl of stew he had been holding, stroking his chin absently.

"You tell," he said, "Why you here?"

"I was captured," said Jack shamefully. It was almost too much to bear, admitting HE, Captain Jack Sparrow, had been captured. Again. "By the Spanish. Bad men," he explained. "And I escaped while they were sailing past this island. I really didn't come 'ere to harm anyone, honest. I didn't even know you and your people were here, Your Holiness."

Chief Ohini surveyed him closely. "You tell truth?" he asked.  
"Aye. Why would I lie?" asked Jack. This statement seemed to enrage the Chief, who straightened in his chair, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light. Urenna grimaced a bit as he shouted.  
"Bad men lie! Bad men come and burn our villages, kill our men, steal our women, take our children!" He settled back into his chair, flush-faced.  
"I'm not a bad man," offered Jack weakly in the face of Chief Ohini's rage. He seemed to have calmed, though, and was looking at Urenna. He spoke to her in Jamaican and she answered, glancing at Jack out of the corner of her eye.  
"I was going to sacrifice you to Gods," he said, "But I not kill you."

Jack inclined his head. "Thank'ee."  
"Yet," added Chief Ohini. Jack's face fell. "You have ship?"

"Aye," said Jack. "They should be coming for me any moment, really."

Ohini seemed to be considering something. "What you have on your ship?" he asked, after awhile.

"Oh, you know," said Jack breezily, "Rope. Barrels. Wood. Rum. Shippy things."

"Rum!" roared Chief Ohini. "You have rum!"

"Aye," said Jack cautiously, wondering what the man was getting at. He spoke again to Urenna and then turned back to Jack.

"I let you go if you give us rum," he said.

Jack frowned at this. Give away his precious rum? "How much rum are we talking about, here?"

Chief Ohini spoke to his daughter again and then looked back at him. "How much you have?"

"About ten barrels," lied Jack. He actually had about twenty.  
"Ten barrels of rum for you life, Jack Savvy," said Chief Ohini, eyes glinting. "Good deal, yes?"

Jack thought about this for a long while. On the one hand, his life was quite valuable, but on the other hand, so was rum. He eventually took into account that he had to be *alive* to drink rum. He nodded at Chief Ohini, slowly and carefully. "I don't know 'ow long my ship will take to get here, though," he said. PLEASE get here soon, Pearl, he prayed silently. 

"You stay with us while wait," said Chief Ohini. "If ship not come in ten-four days, you die."

Jack paled a bit.  
Well, Gibbs, Anamaria, he thought. You've got fourteen days to show up.

And you'd better not drink all the rum on the way here, either.


	6. Chapter the Sixth: Captive

**Chapter the Sixth**: _Captive_

Urenna informed Jack, after a long conversation with her father, that he would be staying in her hut. She didn't seem too happy about it, and honestly Jack couldn't really blame her. He *was* a bit of a disreputable character, if he did say so himself.

He was currently sitting in front of a low, rickety table in Urenna's hut, slurping noisily from a bowl of unidentified stew she'd given him along with a jug of water. He'd finished the water already. Urenna was sitting across from him, watching with a blank look on her face as he guzzled the nourishment hungrily.

"Lovely," Jack said after he'd finished licking the bowl clean. "My compliments to the chef." He deposited empty jug and bowl on the table and grinned at Urenna.

"Will ship really come?" she asked after a moment.

"Of course they will," Jack said, although a note of doubt crept into his voice. There wasn't really much question of whether they'd actually go looking for him, it was more of a question if they'd *find* him or not. "I'll have to set up a signal on the beach, though. Maybe you can get me some of that bamboo that you people seem to have in abundance here...I doubt anything else in this bloody wet jungle will burn."

Urenna looked at him steadily. Jack wondered if she knew enough English to understand half the things he said.  "How do you and your father know any English, eh?" he asked, suddenly curious.  
"English man came to village, taught my father. He teach me," said Urenna.

English man? thought Jack, suddenly hopeful. "Where is this English man now?" he asked, leaning forwards a bit. It would be nice to have someone around who actually understood more than fifty percent of what he said.

"Dead," said Urenna flatly. "He sacrifice to Gods after he no more use to father."

"Oh," gulped Jack.

"Don't worry, father not kill you yet. He wait until he gets rum." Urenna stood up.

"What?" Jack said. "He's *still* going to kill me? I thought we agreed - my life for the rum!" exclaimed Jack  
"Gods need sacrifice," said Urenna. "Gods always need sacrifice." She didn't sound too happy about it.

"Sacrifice a goat or something!" Jack stood up hurriedly. "I'm leaving," he announced. "I won't stand around to be betrayed and then sacrificed to some heathen deity!" He turned and marched out of the hut, to be met by the barrel of a musket and the head of a spear.

"Guards," Jack muttered in disgust. "Bleedin' guards. Look, I just want to go for a walk, savvy?" he said, holding his hands up, palms out. The guards just glared at him through their face paint.

He sighed and retreated back into the hut. Urenna had cleared away the remnants of his meal and stood calmly against the far wall.

"Can I have my hat back, at least?" She was still wearing it. "Let a man die with his hat on, eh?"

Urenna pulled off the hat and looked at it. "I like hat," she said, slowly and ponderously, as if she was deciding his fate. Jack stared at her. These people were *insane*.

"Right, well...It's mine. But, if - *when* my ship turns up, I'll get you a hat. A bigger one. A better one. So, can I have that one back? Please?" He widened his eyes at her.

Urenna reluctantly handed it back. He grinned and stuffed it on his head, feeling more confident already. "Thanks, love." He paced around the hut, no longer hatless.

The Jamaican woman was staring at him with a curious intensity. Jack stopped pacing and turned to her, a frown marring his dirt-stained face. "What? Never seen a pirate with his hat on before, eh?" He grinned at her, but her expression remained unchanged.

He waved a hand in front of her face. Urenna blinked and gave him an odd, undecipherable look before exiting the hut. Jack stared after her, bewildered. "Certainly a bit o' an odd bird," he muttered to himself, and sat down on Urenna's straw bed.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, for when he woke up, it was morning. The sun broke in irregular, jagged shards on the dusty floor, and it shone in Jack's eyes. He groaned and rolled off the mattress, finding the floor to be about the same consistency. He managed to plant his feet beneath him and stand up, peering around the cramped space.

Another straw bed had been dragged into the hut at some point during the night, and Urenna was sleeping on it. She was on her back, hands folded on her stomach, and she looked oddly...peaceful. Jack watched her sleep a moment - an Amazon at rest; a rare sight - and then stepped towards the open doorway.

Two guards blocked his path, this time both with spears. Still, they were unnervingly sharp. Jack sighed and held up his hands in defeat, retreating back into the hut. He sat back down on his straw bed and fiddled with his hat for a while, and then lay back and stared at the gap-filled, palm-frond ceiling.

A stirring nearby announced Urenna's awakening. Jack tilted his head and watched her get up and move to the doorway, speaking to the guards in a low voice. She turned her dark eyes on his placid, resting form and he gave a little wave. "Ello, love. How's about a little breakfast? I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He sat up. "So, what shall it be? Caterpillar? Coconuts? Caterpillars in coconuts? Quite frankly, I'm up for anything, because like I mentioned...I'm starving." His stomach gave a rumble and he flashed his gold-capped teeth. "See? Punctuation," he added.

All through this Urenna was giving him a very odd look. Poor chit really *can't* understand me half the time, Jack thought sadly. His... 'incarceration' here was made even worse by the lack of English-speaking people about.

He could only hope that the Black Pearl would come for him soon.

Pearl, *please* come for me soon, Jack thought, not for the first - or last - time.

"You come with me," Urenna said.

Ten minutes later, Jack sat in front of the bonfire in the middle of the village. The fire was little more than a pile of glowing embers, now, and Urenna told him it was only lit at night, and their food was wrapped up and stuck into the coals to be cooked. Their usual 'food' turned out to be, unsurprisingly, snake.

Jack ate coal-cooked snake and watched the villagers go about their business. They occasionally stared at him as they passed, carrying baskets or some other item, but gave him no trouble. The men seemed to be especially hostile towards him, especially when Urenna came and sat beside him. He supposed she was a bit of an 'item', what with being the Head Honcho's daughter and all. The thought that the men might be jealous of him made Jack choke on his morsel of snake.

"Why you laugh?" Urenna asked, puzzled. Jack wondered the same thing himself - how could he possibly find humour in this situation? He was going to die in fourteen - no, thirteen days.

"Honestly, darling, I have no idea," he said breezily, and took another bite of snake. He stared at the remaining meat thoughtfully as he chewed. "You know...this actually tastes quite a lot like chicken," he remarked.

"Snake is snake, not ... chicken," replied Urenna blankly.

"You people 'ave got no sense of humour, honestly. I don't know how you survive. Me, if I took everything seriously, I'd be dead by now. Seriously," he added. "I mean, look at all this." He waved his snake-on-a-stick, taking in the whole camp. "I'm a captive here, yes? I'm going to be sacrificed to your Gods, aye? Now, if I considered that sort of situation seriously, I'd shoot meself."

Urenna had stopped paying attention halfway through his little speech, and was munching steadily on her own snake. "You talk lots, Jack Savvy," she said through a mouthful of reptilian flesh.  
He found this hilariously funny and laughed so loudly the two guards that followed him around all the time jumped. "Aye! You aren't the first one to have said that, love." He thought mournfully of Anamaria, and wondered if he would ever get another opportunity to have a good verbal sparring session with her. One one hand, he hoped so - but on the other, he didn't. Anamaria was incredibly difficult when she wanted to be.

And Gibbs. Jack was starting to miss Gibbs's...Well, he couldn't really think of anything overly remarkable about Gibbs, nothing that he really wanted to think about, anyway. But the person he missed the most was definitely the Black Pearl.

The Pearl. Technically, she wasn't a person - but as far as Captain Jack Sparrow was concerned, she was damned close. He sighed wistfully as he thought of his Pearl's sails unfurling, white and pure as snow; of the smooth, dark wood glistening as the morning light shone upon it, the feel of the helm beneath his calloused palms...

Urenna must have noticed his mood, for Jack became aware that she was speaking. "Jack Savvy?" she said. He looked at her.

"It's Jack *Sparrow*, love. Not Savvy. Savvy?"  
"Jack Savvy?" repeated Urenna, confused.  
"Never mind." Jack sighed and finished off his snake. Urenna stood, having finished hers before him.

"You come with me."  
Jack scrambled to his feet and swayed after her as she made her way through the camp. "Where are we going?" He almost collided into one of his personal guards and brushed the man off before continuing after Urenna. "Eh?"  
"To make signal." She turned to him, a gleam in her eye. "You do want ship to come?"

"Aye, but what good will it do? You said your father's going to kill me anyway," replied Jack miserably.  
Urenna looked worried. She walked close to him and whispered in his ear. This incited a few acid looks from the guards and other men, but she ignored them. "Father not know you know he going to deceive you," she whispered. "You escape when ship comes. I help."  
Jack goggled at her, bewildered. "Why?"  
She stepped back from him, grinning for the first time since he had met her. 

"You not bad man, Jack Savvy. That why."


	7. Chapter the Seventh: Cave

**Chapter the Seventh**: _Cave_

Jack felt relieved when they left the claustrophobic, wet confines of the jungle. To his dismay, he saw no shadow of a ship looming on the distance, nor the billowing of a sail over the horizon. It was depressing, really - he knew, deep in his black heart, that it would take nothing short of a complete and utter miracle for the Pearl to find him.

Knowing his luck, they'd probably turn up *after* his allotted fourteen days were up, to find their Captain dead and sacrificed to some Jamaican god or other. 

It wasn't a nice concept. Jack always visualized himself as going out in some blaze of glory - in a spectacular firefight with an enemy ship, perhaps. Or maybe he would grow old and become the Greatest Pirate that Ever Lived To Say So, and then die in his bed surrounded by a million grandkiddies.

Although he really couldn't see himself having kiddies at all, let alone grandkiddies.

Anyway, instead of dying in the ways he thought he ought to, he was going to be sacrificed on some bamboo altar for the benefit of these people whose sole purpose in life was to dance around a campfire in face paint, chanting "Mulla mulla!".

How depressing.

Jack was so depressed about this that he wasn't much help to Urenna as they built the signal. As he half-heartedly tossed a twig onto the heap of bamboo and driftwood she had piled up on the beach, she'd had enough.

"You stop! I do it," she snapped irritably. Jack didn't need to be told twice. He flopped down onto the sand and watched the warrior woman as she hauled another log of driftwood onto the pile.

"Yer lucky, y'know," he remarked. "Your life is so simple. Don't have to worry about being killed in horrific ways. Oh, wait," he added, frowning, "Maybe you do - some of those snakes can't be too friendly, eh?"

Urenna ignored him. She knelt by the pile of flammable stuffs, and did something with a stick and her hands at its base. Soon, a flicker of fire had begun to spread over the heap.

Jack scrambled up and backed away, watching as the flames grew and grew. Smoke curled upwards, grey ribbons against the clear blue backdrop of Caribbean sky.

"They won't see it," moaned Jack. "The chances that they'll sail past this island right at this moment, today, is bloody remote, aye?"  
"We light signal every day," said Urenna. "We come once at day, once at dark and wait."

"Wait for how long?" Jack kicked up some sand. He had an idea. "On second thoughts," he said slowly, "Why don't you go back to the village, Urenna? I'll wait here and then come after about an hour or so. What d'ye say, eh?"

Urenna stared at him steadily. "I not allowed," she said. "My father maybe angry that I not let guards come, as it is."

Jack remembered her arguing with his two personal 'escorts' just as they were about to leave the camp. He supposed Urenna found them as annoying as he did. 

He eyed the woman specutavily. She had that spear with her, and she had stuck it in the sand and was leaning against it, staring out at the sea. It wouldn't take much to just grab the spear from her...but then again, Jack wasn't too sure...there was sort of an aura of contained strength around her, of bottled-up violence. He definitely wouldn't like to be on her wrong side.

They waited on the beach for what felt like an eternity. Jack sprawled out on the sand and stared up at the sky, and would sit up so fast his head span when he thought he heard a ship approaching. But the creak of wood, the billowing of sails was all in his mind.

Urenna sat, meditating, near the signal. At least, Jack thought she was meditating - she was deathly still and staring out at the sea with wide-open, staring eyes. 

He crawled over and tapped her on the shoulder. No response. He poked her in the stomach and let out a little squeak as her hand grabbed his fingers in a bone-crushing grip. He could *feel* the bones of his fingers grinding together. "Sorry," he muttered, and Urenna released him with a glare. He stood and popped his sore knuckles.

"They're not going to turn up, love," he said to the sea, depressed. Urenna stood, hefting her spear across her shoulder.  
"Yes. We return to camp; come back at night," she confirmed. When Jack didn't move, she hit him in the back with her spear. "Come!"

Jack grumbled and groaned for the entire trip back to the village. He walked beside Urenna now, though when he lagged behind she would glare at him and jab him with the spear. He dearly wished he had his sword - not to injure her, per say, just to scare her a bit. His back hurt in all the various places she had poked him.

Maybe she wasn't warming up to him like he had thought.

The village was a bit more awake when they arrived. People were sitting around the campfire, cooking their food in the still-glowing embers. One child was running, naked, as his fed-up mother poured water over his mud-smeared body.

"Where do you get the water?" Jack asked, curious. "I 'aven't seen any rivers."

Urenna looked at him, a faint smile forming on her lips. "I ask my father if I can show you."  
"Show me what?" Jack asked thin air as Urenna raced off, leaving him with his guards, which had magically appeared behind him. Captain Sparrow whirred and gave them a toothy gold grin.

"Ello, mates. Nice day, eh?"  
They just stared at him, holding their spears in a threatening manner.  
"Right. I suppose it isn't all that wonderful," continued Jack casually, "It's a bit humid. I, myself, wouldn't mind a bit of a breeze."

Still just blank stares. 

"Grouchy lot, aren't you?" Jack crossed his arms and lapsed into silence, perhaps sensing that his immediate company weren't going to be very conversational this moment.

Urenna came back after five more minutes of Jack's standing around and being glared at by the guards. She had an odd, enigmatic look on her face, and spoke quickly to the guards in their native language. The two men looked disgruntled and moved off.

Urenna turned to Jack, a mysterious smile on her lips. "Come. I show you," she said, and then as an afterthought gestured with her spears. "No funny business," she added.  
"Funny business?" chortled Jack. "Wherever did you learn an expression like that?"

She just looked at him and pointed with her spear.   
"Just asking," Jack muttered, and after a glare from the warrior woman, moved in the direction she indicated.

The trek to the island's opposite coast took what felt like hours. In fact, it was two hours, and during that time the sun moved behind clouds that had appeared out of nowhere. The forest was dense and essentially dark, and Jack knew better than to stray from Urenna's sure path. She darted through the jungle as if she'd lived there all her life, which she, actually, had.

The island was relatively small, but the thick jungle made it difficult to cut through the middle of it. Circumnavigating the coast would have taken far longer, and since Urenna knew all the quickest routes to...wherever they were going, it didn't take as long as it might have.

Jack didn't see the sheer rock face rising up in front of him until Urenna flung an arm out to stop him. He looked up, up, UP at the huge rock that towered above the various breeds of palm trees. There was sand underfoot, as well; Jack judged that they were fairly close to the beach.

He thought he could hear water. And sure enough, when he looked down, he saw a small creek trickling through the thinning undergrowth. It had formed a small gully by his feet, lined with stones and ugly-looking reptiles that scuttled away as Jack's gaze fell on them.

"Look," Urenna said. It was the first time she had spoken during the trek through the jungle, and Jack was startled. He followed her pointing spear with his eyes, seeing a cavernous opening in the side of the rock, where the trickle of water was coming from.   
"Marvellous," said the Pirate Captain dryly, "Is this what you came here to show me? A hole in a rock with water coming out of it?"

"No. We go inside," said the dark woman. She started towards the opening.

"What? Into that dark place? There could be anything in there!" Jack wasn't usually a cautious man. In fact, he was a complete and utter fool when it came to danger. He'd rush into it headlong whether he knew it was there or not - it was in his piratical nature to do so. But something about that dark cave made him nervous, that and the simply homicidal look Urenna was giving him. She smacked him with her spear. 

"Go!"

"Aye, all right, woman," Jack muttered, "Ye don't have to be gettin' violent with me."

He had to splash into the creek and crouch to get inside the cave. He crawled through on his hands and knees, hearing Urenna follow behind him, considerably more quietly. 

He could see some sort of glimmering light in front of him. "What *is* that?" he asked, his voice echoing into some great distance. Urenna told him to be quiet and just keep crawling.

The light grew closer, and soon Jack could stand and walk. The water was ankle-deep now, and it made a sloshing sound as he waded through it. The warrior woman was somehow managing to make no noise, and for a moment Jack wondered if she had turned back, but a sharp poke in his back when he stopped told him otherwise.

Jack found that the water had carved a groove in the rock, and he could stand on an outcropping that rose up beside it. His boots squelched as he walked, and Urenna climbed up behind him. He could sense the spear pointed at his back.

After what felt like an eternity of plodding on in wet boots, Jack emerged into the light. He was barely able to suppress a gasp. He was standing on a wide ledge of rock, overlooking a vast cavern with a huge freshwater pool in the middle. The light came from breaks in the rock overhead, letting thin streams of sun alight on the gently-rippling water. There was some glittering ore in the walls that sparkled like diamonds when the light shone upon it.

It was, in as few words as possible, quite pretty.

"You like?" asked Urenna. She was standing beside him, her black eyes shining.

"It's nice," remarked Jack, not wanting to appear too amazed by the picturesque scene. It vaguely reminded him of the cavern in Isla Del Muerta - but this place had a less sinister, insidious feel about it. Its atmosphere was of some dream, fantasy world - like it would disappear into some other dimension at any moment. "Beauty is a fleeting thing," Jack murmured under his breath, wondering if it was a quotation or if he had just made it up.  
"What?" Urenna glanced at him in the sparkling dimness. He shook his head, looking at the water.

"Where does it come from? The water, I mean," he asked.  
"It comes from the ocean, of course," said Urenna, smirking at him. Her sudden eloquence of speech made Jack glance at her sharply. Maybe her clumsiness with the English language was just an act...it didn't surprise him. She seemed to catch herself at his glance, and spoke again. "River tunnels in from sea," she said, "Cave's been here many moons."  
"Aye," said Jack, still glancing at her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye.  
Urenna seemed to be thinking deeply about something. Her fingers clenched and unclenched from around the spear. "You should go," she blurted suddenly. "No point in staying. You hide this side of the island until ship comes."

"What?" Jack was startled. "But what about Chief Kahuna or whatever-his-name-is? What about the agreed fourteen days? I can escape before they're up if the Pearl doesn't come, trust me. And when the Pearl does come, I'll escape anyway, and your ruddy father won't get any of his precious rum," he added rather smugly.

"No," said Urenna. "He's going to kill you in two days." She didn't look at him, staring at the water's surface, evidently forgetting to keep up the act of an uneducated Amazon woman.

"What!" Jack said. "When was this decided, eh? First you tell me he's going to kill me whether the Pearl turns up in fourteen days or not, and now you're tellin' me he's offing me in two days?! Eh? What say you, woman?"

"Sorry," she muttered. "The Gods need a sacrifice."

"Yes yes, we all know that," said Jack bitterly. "Allah Ackbar and all that pap. But honestly, a man has a right to know when he's going to die!"

"Father only tell me today," Urenna said, remembering to uncomplicate her dialect again. "I not know."

"Rubbish," scoffed Jack. "You knew the whole time. You knew I'd be killed when you took me to your blasted scraggle of a village. You *knew*. And now suddenly you're taking mercy on me? Sorry, love, but I don't buy it." Jack walked across the ledge as far away from her as possible, and crossed his arms, staring at the glittering wall of the cave stubbornly.  
"You not a bad man, Captain Jack Sparrow," said Urenna from behind him; using his correct name for the first time he could remember since he'd met her. "I know that now. I not want you to die."

"Neither do I, love," sighed Jack, "Neither do I." He turned to her, his anger abated. "So, what're we going to do, eh? If I just go now, you'll be punished, from the looks o' things. Have you another plan?"  
Urenna grinned at him.


	8. Chapter the Eighth: Blood Ties

**Chapter the Eighth**: _Blood Ties_

The first day passed slowly for Captain Jack Sparrow and his constant companion Urenna. They went to the beach in the morning and lit another signal, and Jack stood on the shore staring out at the sea with little hope that the Pearl would turn up. It was unlikely enough that they would appear in a fortnight, let alone two days. And he only had two days.

Two days to live. Of course, Urenna had told him that when the time came, she would insist on taking part in the ceremony. She would tie him to the bamboo pole that was to be erected on the bonfire, in the centre of the village, and would make sure his bonds were loose. After that, it was up to Jack to navigate his way through the jungle chased by a bunch of heathen natives.

He was to head for the "Water-Cave", as Urenna and her people called it. She'd told him of several underwater tunnels that led to a network of caves in the mountain. Jack now knew where exactly on the island the Cave was - there was a large collection of cliffs to the west peninsula, around a bend in the coast from where Jack had first arrived on the island.

Urenna had told him the plan in jilted English after arriving back in the village the previous night, and did so without meeting his eye. 

She knows that I know that she know a great deal more than she's letting on that she know, and... Jack's thoughts, as he crouched in the sand, came to an incoherent halt. She's prob'ly more fluent in the Queen's English than I am, he concluded carefully. 

Earlier this morning he had been given something like wine that apparently came from the fermented remains of one of the island fruits, and he felt quite tipsy. It was certainly a tad stronger than rum, considering he could drink...well, quite a lot of rum without appearing to be drunk - but then again, that might have been because Jack was drunk *all the time*.

Jack was unsure how long he had waited on the beach, but the sun had climbed higher on the horizon since their arrival on the coast. The hot sun and the wine made Jack's head spin more than usual, and he collapsed into the sand when his legs began to cramp up in the crouching position.

Urenna stood in-between him and the signal, leaning on her spear. Her eyes were half-lidded and she had not spoken a word to him since waking him in the early hours. Jack wondered if she was cross with him.

"'Renna," he slurred. "Yoo-RENN-arr!" He repeated loudly after a moment of silence on her part. She looked around, her gaze considerably cooler than the sunlight.

"Why're you pretending to be stupid?" Jack continued from his prone position in the sand. Urenna looked offended.  
"I not stupid," she said.

"I know you can speak the English good," said Captain Sparrow. "Hell, ye can prob'ly speak it better 'n I. Definiter...defitine...def..."

"Definitely?" suggested Urenna. Jack nodded.

"Aye. DEFINITELY yer a bit more coherent than yours truly...bloody hell, that wine musta been *strong* to get me in such a state..."

Urenna was silent for awhile. "Well," she said eventually, and Jack looked askance at her. Her face was upside-down from his perspective, and he giggled, letting out a hiccup. Urenna looked at him steadily before continuing. "I can speak English *well*. Not good. Well."

"Well! Aye," said Jack, pleased. He was silent for a moment, and closed his eyes. Bright patterns danced across the inside of his eyelids, and he watched them for a while before remembering to speak. "Why the charade, then? Eh?" He opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, propping himself up with some difficulty on an elbow.

"I learned a little more from the British man that visited here than my father knows," she said gravely. "I try to keep him alive for as long as I could. He was a good man. A merchant from some place called Liverpool. He got sick. My father wanted to sacrifice him before he die of illness." Urenna looked down. "There wasn't nothing I could do."  
Jack gazed at her thoughtfully, sensing there was more to her story. She continued after a moment, confirming his suspicions.  
"He left behind some books," she said, "And I hid them. I read a bit each night. The little English I learned helped. Many moons ago - before you arrived - merchants came to the Island: my father sent me to trade. I got more books, and learnt more." She looked at him, smiling faintly. "I like books."  
"Never had much use for 'em meself," said Jack. "'Course I need to read for maps and such, but I'm not a literarararerry...Literary man." He nodded and put his hands to his head to make sure it didn't fall off.

Urenna laughed. It was, perhaps, the first time Jack had heard her do so. Her laugh was mellow and soft, not the tinkly giggle of most women (wenches, really) that Jack Sparrow had known.

"Our wine is stronger than rum," she said. "You are not going to feel good tomorrow, Jack Savvy."  
"I wish you'd stop calling me that, woman," muttered Jack. "You know me name as well as I do."

Urenna merely smirked at him. A few moments passed in silence, and then Jack became aware of a sound - running footsteps on the sand. Urenna whirled, gripping her spear, shading her eyes against the sun as she gazed towards the sound. Someone was emerging from the forest - a small, brown someone.

The someone nearly ran into Urenna, but stopped at the last moment and doubled over, panting. It was a girl, probably little more than twelve years old, and she bore a remarkable resemblance to the warrior-woman Urenna. Said warrior-woman had lowered her spear when the girl had reached them, and stood looking sternly down at her.

Jack, from his stretched-out position in the sand, watched them. The girl seemed excited, and kept glancing at Jack, babbling excitedly to Urenna, who frowned. From the tone of her voice Jack judged Urenna was giving the girl a sound admonition.

"This is my sister, Saada," said Urenna after a particular string of words left the girl looking abashed. "She...followed us. She is curious," the woman finished, looking sourly at her sister.

"Curious? 'Bout what?" Jack asked, eyeing the little girl through slitted panda eyes. Saada grinned nervously at him.

"She has never seen a foreigner," elaborated Urenna. She was still looking sternly at Saada, who didn't seem to notice. The little girl was looking at Jack with a mixture of fascination and caution. 

Captain Sparrow roused himself and stood up, brushing himself off. Saada staggered back a few steps, looking up at him. He was a good deal taller than the little girl, which wasn't saying much - she was a very small girl. But she had the same sort of strength about her that Urenna had, despite her nervousness.

Saada spoke quickly to her sister in their native language. Then she turned to Jack and said in uncertain, heavily-accented English, "You a pirate?"

"So I'm told," replied Jack mildly. He felt rather dizzy and light-headed from the combination of the sun and the wine, and wasn't sure whether his head was still attached to his shoulders or not. This raised a worry in his mind and he raised his hands quickly, relieved to find his hat still whole and on his floating-off head.

Saada was looking at him in a manner reminiscent of a bird, tilting her head. "Father gonna kill you," she said. It was half a statement, half a question.

"Not if I have anything to do with it, 'e's not," Jack said, a bit more emphatically than before. He wobbled a bit, and quickly righted himself, staring blearily at Urenna and her sister. "Bloody 'ell," he remarked, "Is it just me, or is a midget standin' beside you, 'Renna?"

Urenna frowned. "Saada is my sister," she replied. Saada frowned as well, her expression quite similar to her sister's. She puffed herself up as tall as possible, seemingly ignoring - or not understanding - Jack's comment about her being a midget.

"I not want you to die," she announced, a determination reminiscent of her sister's in her murky brown eyes. 

"You and about...hm, maybe three other people I can think of right now, midget," replied Jack. He wondered how long he would be able to stay on his feet, for he felt very dizzy now. "Lotsa people, 'owever, want me to. Die, that is." He swayed from side to side. 

Urenna said, "You are not well?" just before Jack fell over and hit the sand with a soft 'thud'. She looked to her little sister, who cautiously tiptoed over to the prone Pirate's body and prodded him with her bare foot.  
"Is he dead?" she asked her older sister in their language. Urenna knelt beside the fallen Captain and felt his forehead.

"No," she replied, "But he's going to have an awful hangover when he wakes up." She smiled faintly. "Help me carry him back to the village. Who let you come after me, anyway? You are not allowed out of the village alone."

Saada gave her a defiant look as she picked up Jack's legs, and Urenna his arms. Together they hauled him up and half-carried, half-almost-dragged him towards the jungle. Urenna kicked some sand on the fire signal to put it out, and tucked her spear under her arm, heaving Jack along. Saada wasn't much help as she wasn't very strong.

"No-one noticed me," the little girl grunted, straining under the small portion of Jack Sparrow's weight she was carrying, "I slipped out a few minutes after you left with the Pirate."

"The Pirate," said Urenna thoughtfully, looking down at said Pirate. They had entered the jungle and were some ways into it, but Saada had to rest. They propped Jack's prone form against a tree and sat down in the soft foliage. "I have agreed to help him escape, if his ship does not come," she said eventually. Saada looked sharply at her.

"Father will kill you if he finds out!"

Urenna looked grave. "He will find out," she said. "And after he does, after Captain Jack Sparrow is gone...*I* will be the one to be sacrificed to the Gods."


End file.
